


the measure of the cards

by StarryCleric



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Talking To Dead People, molly is there in spirit, post episode 86
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:06:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryCleric/pseuds/StarryCleric
Summary: "I guess this is as close to a sign as I'll ever get that you're listening, asshole," Beau says. She leans back carefully, relaxing against the bundle of branches and letting the tension in her shoulders unwind.“I thought you should know. We got her back. It was a fucking struggle, to be clear, but fuck, man. We really did it.”--Beau takes a moment alone to catch Molly up about everything that's happened since he's been gone, and maybe to think about herself as well.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Beauregard Lionett & The Mighty Nein
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	the measure of the cards

It's late at night, or possibly very early in the morning when Beau climbs to the top of the enormous tree on the roof of the Xhorhaus. She's an Expositor now. She can do cool shit like scamper up pillars and run along walls. This tree is no problem. 

The wooden limbs space out the higher up she goes, with fewer and fewer strings of lights to help her foot placement. She doesn't let that deter her, hauling herself up on the thin branches that she knows will hold her if she's careful. Up here, the breeze is a bit stronger. It whistles past her, forcing her to steady herself by grabbing a handful of leaves and twigs that jut up towards the dark sky. It passes in a moment, though, and soon she finds a stable enough spot to nestle into, reclining against a limb and looking out across Rosohna.

She's up high enough that she can see most of the city sprawled far beneath her. The thousands of little green lanterns set into the sides of most of the buildings illuminate the streets in a soft glow, and in a moment of rare poetic insight Beau thinks they look like a mirror of the stars glittering in the perpetually dark sky. 

Okay, that was a bit much. Beau shakes her head and huffs out a breath. If she had Caleb's freaky internal clock she'd know exactly what time it was, but she can't make out anyone walking on the roads below, so it might be even later than she thought. 

She reaches into her back pocket, shifting aside the foliage and snapping a twig or two so she can pull out the pack of tarot cards she always kept stashed close to hand. 

It's probably just her imagination, but she could swear she could feel the jade tattoo on the back of her neck tingling. 

The shimmery surface of the back of the cards sparkles in the reflected light from the strings of lights when she holds them up in front of her. She tilts the deck back and forth, watching the pattern swirl and shift. Then, she flips over the top card.

It's the All-Seeing Eye, framed by little stars and moons. Ioun's symbol, and the tattoo she and Molly both have. Had.

"I guess this is as close to a sign as I'll ever get that you're listening, asshole," Beau says. She leans back carefully, relaxing against the bundle of branches and letting the tension in her shoulders unwind. She’s not like Caduceus and Fjord or even Yasha, who can feel a connection to the divine through nature, but there’s something in the shivering way the moonlight hits the cards that makes her feel… less alone. Maybe “heard” is pushing it too far, but still. 

“I thought you should know. We got her back. It was a fucking struggle, to be clear, but fuck, man. We really did it.” 

The leaves around her rustle, probably from a breeze. Beau reaches out to pick one off and twist it in her fingers.

“We haven’t had a chance to really, uh, talk about it much with her. She was kind of in a state by the time we made it back here. Think the whole mind control thing really took a lot out of her. Which, you know. Fair.”

In her mind’s eye, she can see the last desperate jump the Mighty Nein made through Caleb’s teleportation circle, most of them barely able to keep their feet by the time they finished with Obann. The subsequent message to Essek for an emergency transport and Caleb’s rapidfire explanation of what had happened while they’d been gone for the past month was mostly blocked out by exhaustion and adrenaline, as well as concern for their recently rescued friend.

Yasha was murmuring something to herself over and over again and gripping her long black and white hair with shaking hands when Caduceus and Jester ushered her into her own room to get her to bed. Beau wanted to follow after them, wanted to peek in and assure herself that Yasha was really, genuinely going to be okay, but Jester had turned her around and pushed her out, insisting that Yasha needed her space before everyone started to crowd her. Beau had taken off around then, pacing through the city to burn off the waves of nervous energy before making her way back and climbing their tree. 

She tilts her head up to the sky, letting the moonlight from above wash over her and turn the dark into something that centers her instead of riling her. It’s easier, now, to find that place of calm in her head, to find a place of stillness when everything used to feel so chaotic and rushed. The wind can brush by her and she doesn’t feel the need to lash out and fight back. 

She relaxes her hand that’s gripping the tarot card. No matter what her opinion of fortune telling, she doesn’t want to crease it. “There’s a lot that’s changed since you’ve been gone, Molly. A lot that we can do now that we couldn’t back when you were around. I’ve been wondering if you’d even recognize us if you saw us now.”

The thought almost startles a huff of laughter out of her. “It’s kind of funny, thinking about what you’ve missed. Stuff like… well, Fjord’s a paladin now. We were pirates for a while, on accident, while we got all that Uk’otoa business sorted out, or at least put it on hold. You would have been so into all that, it was the sort of shit that was right up your alley. Fjord talks differently now too. I bet you would have given him so much shit for that, but in, like, a good way. You were good at not taking it too far most of the time. And Fjord is following the Wildmother now, which seems healthier than that fucking snake situation in general.”

She twists her fingers holding the leaf, letting it dance around her bruised knuckles. “Yeah, he’s been working on it all with Caduceus, who you would have _loved_ , by the way. He’s weird, not in the same way you were, but I think you’d like his vibes. Gods know we need at least one person who knows how to slow down every once in a while. He’d definitely see right through all your bullshit, by the way. And I think he’s probably dealing with his own crazy shit, but things are working for now.”

“That’s something else I’ve been trying out recently, by the way. Trying to, uh, think positively. Or at least… not immediately assume the worst in people. That’s something else that you did that I’ve been holding onto, I guess.” 

Beau clears her throat, dropping the leaf and clutching the deck with both hands. “Anyway, speaking of trying out improvements, Caleb and Nott have been turning things around since you last saw them. They’ve both called us their friends out loud, which like, _obviously_ we’re all friends, but when you were here they were both cagey as _fuck_ about that kind of thing, and they’ve come a long way. There’s still the, you know, anxiety and the drinking, and all that to work through, but I think we might actually be making some headway on that. Oh, other cool fact, Nott used to be a halfling and had a whole family that she rescued from goblins. We rescued her husband and got him back with their kid a little while ago. That was right around when we accidentally became heroes of the Dynasty.”

She’s not really sure why all these words are pouring out of her, since she’s almost certainly just talking to thin air. Somehow, though, she’s more willing to just go with it tonight. There’s no one around to hear her, and if Molly somehow _is_ hearing any of this… well. She thinks he’d like to know.

“Caleb’s still pretty fucked up, which isn’t a surprise per se, but he is doing a lot better at actually communicating with people now. He actually told everyone a little bit about his whole… situation a while ago, which helped.” She doesn’t go into any more detail out loud than that, even when she’s all alone, talking to the sky. Still not her story to tell. “He’s, uh, come a long way. We all have.” 

Beau closes her eyes and lets her hands fall into her lap. Now that she’s relaxed a bit she’s more aware of the way twigs are poking into her back, but she doesn’t move around to adjust any. The air feels close and almost electrified, and the poke in her spine is almost...expectant.

“You’re really gonna make me say it out loud, huh?” she murmurs. She opens her eyes and looks up at the moon. 

“Jester has been really incredible. Mostly because she’s the fucking greatest, but she really…” she trails off. “Jester is complicated and wonderful like she’s always been, Molly. She was fucking torn up after we rescued her and she found out you died, and I think she feels like she has to be the strong one all the time since she’s always been so goddamn supportive and sweet through everything.” She’s _not_ blushing, but she covers her face anyway. “We found her father, which probably didn’t go exactly the way she was hoping it would, but she’s been taking everything like a champ, of course. She’s got an iron core, Molly, she’s so fucking strong…”

She trails off, then groans, realizing what she’s said. “Metaphorically speaking, not that I’ve been – Gods, if you were here, you would give me so much fucking grief for this.” There’s no use denying the blush now, even with no one around to see it. “You’d laugh your head off and probably say I should just tell her how I feel, even though it’s not that simple, _Mollymauk._ ”

Below her, the strings of lights sway slightly, sending sparkles of light dancing along the side of the house and the bark of the tree. 

“I –” she starts, then abruptly cuts herself off. Takes in a deep breath. Centers herself instead of lashing out. “I really fucking miss you, man.” She hasn’t said that out loud for a while, and it aches almost as much as the new scar through her chest, but she says it anyway. “It’s been a long road since Shady Creek Run, and so much has happened, but I haven’t forgotten about you.”

She touches her neck, where the jade tattoo tingles and feels warm beneath her fingertips. “This was for you, but mostly for me. Something to take with me, I guess.” 

Something in her feels raw as she keeps talking, but it’s a good kind of raw, the kind that comes with scabs and scars that have to be revealed before starting to heal. “I’m different now too, Molly. I’m an Expositor now, for what that’s worth. But there’s more than that. You’d still call me the unpleasant one if you saw me now, but I think I’m better at… helping, now. People aren’t just there for me to tangle with anymore, they’re something that I give a damn about protecting. I actually really care what happens to them, pretty much for the first time.” 

It’s probably just the continued night breeze that’s making her eyes sting. Higher elevation and all that. 

“It’s all grown so big outside of a circus in Trostenwald, but we’ve grown too, is what I think I’m trying to say.” She pauses, and shakes her head. “Fuck, that’s really goddamn corny. This is what it’s come to. I’m writing fucking poetry, Molly, so it’s all gone to shit.” 

It feels good to laugh a bit. The tension shivering in the air dissipates, and the tightness in her chest relaxes. 

She looks down at the green lights of the city. It really is getting late.

“This was, uh. This was good.” The strings of lights flicker back and forth. “Let’s do it again sometime, okay? Next time I’ll bring something to drink.”

It’s probably just her imagination, but the tattoo tingles one last time before the sensation fades away. She tucks the deck of tarot cards back into their box and folds it away in one of her pockets. There’s a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t realized had been weighing on her until it went away. A deep breath of the cool night air feels refreshing instead of chilling.

She climbs down the tree to head off to bed.


End file.
